


Separate the Sorrow

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (I mean what else is new amiright), Angst, Cas blushes, Dean is a huge asshole, Demon Dean, M/M, Not A Happy Ending, There are knives, and boner jokes, come join me!, season 10, so if that's your cup of tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You were my charge,” he replied simply, “I did what was asked of me. It was in my directions. Afterwards, we became friends. I thought friends helped friends.”</p><p>Dean let out a low laugh, looking off to the side and working his jaw, “We were never friends, Cas.”</p><p>“Yes. We were never friends. We were always more.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Separate the Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> I just- I have no excuses. I really like Deanmon. We need more of him. Also I'm horrible. 
> 
> Yes, I AM using lyrics from that one song from Willy Wonka. Got a problem with that?

Dean was down in the dungeon again. Another wave of anger after he and Sam argued about all the Devil’s traps set throughout the Bunker. Dean had gotten ahold of the guns Sam had hidden, and gone trigger-happy.

After an hour of Sam scrambling to escape, resulting in several close calls and a broken bookcase, he was able to shoot Dean in the leg with one of the demon bullets they'd used on Abaddon.

Sam subdued him, then called Cas.

“ _It’s Dean._ “

“ _I’ll be right over_.”

He was let inside. Sam had that look on his face, that one he always had.

“You okay?"

"I am not going to lie to you," he rubbed at one of his eyes, "this is taking a toll on me."

" _This_ or," Sam motioned, "this?"

"Everything."

He strode to towards the storage room, waving the younger Winchester away.

It always came back to this. Castiel fixing his mistakes, Castiel causing even more.

The door shut behind him with a soft thump and Castiel could hear whistling. He recognised it as Hey Jude.

The song stopped.

“You there, Sammy? C’mon, you know I was just playin’ with ya! I only _grazed_ your shoulder-“

Castiel had been opening the shelves, standing in the middle. Dean stopped as he laid eyes on him. Black, black eyes.

His mouth froze on the syllable, breathing for a second before continuing, “And I guess it was the one with the angel on it. Did I piss you off? Do I need to confess?”

“The only reason you are still like this is because Sam and I think it is too risky to attempt to make you human again with the only method we know how. Every time you do something like this, it makes it harder to uphold that.”

“Ha!” He called, “And, uh, who’s gonna stop me? Little ol’ you? I don’t think so, Cas. You have less balls than Uriel.”

“I would never hurt you, Dean,” he responded evenly, grabbing the stool they’d kept in the corner and sitting.

“Bull _shit_.” He clicked, shaking his head, “Complete and utter bullshit- y’know, before meeting you, I didn’t think angels existed. I’d thought about it, obviously. But you _totally_ underwhelmed my expectations. All of them did, but mostly you. So _weak_. You bent at humanity’s-at _my_ \- will just like that.” He snapped his fingers, smirking with all his teeth.

Castiel dug his fingers into his thigh with a small sigh. Every time he attempted to subdue Dean, it only riled him up even more. By the end of it, Sam had to pull them apart and Castiel finally just shoved to fingers on Dean’s forehead to pass him out.

But he was still called, every single time.

“You were my charge,” he replied simply, “I did what was asked of me. It was in my directions. Afterwards, we became friends. I thought friends helped friends.”

Dean let out a low laugh, looking off to the side and working his jaw, “We were never _friends_ , Cas.”

“Yes. We were never friends. We were always more.”

“Oh, don’t start with that ‘profound bond’ jack assery,” he groaned, leaning his head back against the metal chair. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and Castiel followed the movement, imagining it going through the pipes of his throat. Imagining something else entirely.

Human bodies never ceased to amaze.

 _Demon. Demon, not human_ , he corrected himself.

He took the silent moment to finish his thought, “We were, Dean. I tell you this every chance I get. I pulled you out of Hell. I put you back together, stopped you from becoming the monster that you are now.”

“Wow, you really know how to sugarcoat it don’t you?”

“I marked you, Dean. It’s still there now. It will be there until you fall apart again. And I will be there to repeat it.”

“’S your record broken? You yap on and on about this same fucking thing. Then I say something completely true, you get your panties in a bunch, and Sammy ends up wasting phone battery because he called you for no reason whatso-fucking-ever.”

He lazily put slinked his head back in place, rolling his shoulders. His arms strained through the constraints.

 _It is the same thing every time, is it not? We always end up neck and neck, claws_ out _. Angel versus demon, just as intended._ Cas ran hands through his hair, sliding them back down over his mouth, folding them in his lap, “I want to help you.”

“You _want_ to get Sam off your ass. You _want_ the guilt that this, that Metatron coming to power, ultimately killing me, is your fault, and you want that off your mind. Because it’s all you think about, ain’t it? While your still tryna find your mojo, while you try to get Heaven back to its shit-faced self,” he leaned forward, clutching the armrests, “you’re thinking about me. Everything that’s happening right now? _Your_ _fault_.” His shout echoed off the walls.

Maybe if his eyes hadn’t flickered back to being that brilliant green, Castiel wouldn’t have ended up with his blade out. It was even worse that way, and Dean knew it. Because those were _his_ eyes. His laughing, bright eyes. Accusing, throwing darts all around him, giving Castiel no way out. Like Dean never became what he became and it was actually _him_.

He felt the end of the weapon digging into his wrist.

Dean chuckled, relaxing back, “Did I get you all hot and bothered? Whipping that thing out everywhere.”

“At least I have calmed you down,” he breathed, “even if it seems you’ve transferred some of your anger to me.”

“Oh no, I’m still a kettle on an open frigging flame,” he shrugged, “I just find it more entertaining when I explode later on and you look amazing.”

Just, _poof_ , everything he was thinking of saying, gone. “Excuse me?”

“I can see you now, remember? You soul, grace, whatever. When you get angry, it _glows_. Like a fucking supernova. It’s amazing.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he said, feeling blood rush up to his ears.

“It’s getting _you_ somewhere. Red brings out your eyes.”

Castiel stayed silent, his knuckles whitening around the hilt of the blade. Dean was assessing his reaction, head tilting slightly to the side. His lips were twitching.

The angel stilled. He remembered Purgatory. When Dean had found him after seemingly searching his entire stay. The giant, blinding smile he’d given him, reaching his entire face, even whiter through all the dirt covering it. 

“What are you trying to achieve?”

“I play with my food.”

"Are you implying that you are going to eat me?"

"Hopefully."

 _"_ You've gone insane _."_

"Possibly," he sucked on his front teeth, "or having no conscience is just that fun."

He had the overwhelming urge to punch him in the mouth for a moment. No, no. Wrong. Wrong word. He had the overwhelming urge to do  _something_ to his mouth, something equally as bruising and rough as a punch. Father help him.

"Why don't you want our help, Dean? Why must you make it so difficult?"

Dean looked at him, really looked at him, "Buddy, I don't need to worry about making life easy for you two anymore. Before, it was just 'I'm Dean Winchester, and my purpose in life is to take care of my baby brother and the ragtags we pick up along the way'. Kevin, Charlie, you. Especially you. That was all I worried about, tacked on with having to save the entire frigging world every other Monday. Then I became the damn Hulk after I touched the First Blade. Now, everything is so much easier. I could stab anyone I want and feel indifferent for them. If you guys change that, you aren't doing anybody but yourselves any favours."

Castiel had stood up, eyebrows knitting together with every word. "You. We are doing you a favour. You can not live like this, Dean."

"I can't live like this because  _you_ don't want me to," he spat, "'cause you want that 'righteous man' you saved from Hell. You want the good, not the bad and the ugly. It's a package deal."

"Stop talking like that. Like- Like this is all to my benefit." He shoved the blade back into his sleeve and marched forward, "You have a brother up there. He's been working his ass off to keep _your_ ass out of trouble. And you are trying to make this into some kind of self-pity? We all have hard lives, Dean, it's in the job description. That means we do not get the easy way out. That means we give up everything for the good fight, or in this case, the best one. That means you do not get to turn into a demon and run away in your own little land of not caring."

"Gettin' defensive aren't ya?" Dean whispered, smirking. Castiel was standing right on the outer ring of the trap, feeling his chest getting hotter as he got angrier.

"You are an idiot, Dean Winchester."

"Oh yeah what else is-"

He shut up. He shut up because Castiel had suddenly come forward and leaned against him, hands on armrests. Their noses brushed and Castiel's gaze dropped to, Heaven above, those lips. Dean blinked, eyelashes brushing against his. Their eyes met.

_Do it._

_He's your best friend._

_He's a demon._

_Do it._

_Don't._

He took one last look before pulling himself out of Dean's perimeter, just as he started to push forward, already leaving the storage room.

Dean started yelling, "Cas, you better fucking come back here. What the fuck was that?!  _Castiel--_ " He snapped his fingers to knock him out, feeling his grace waver as he did. His entire body felt tired, but it was worth it.

Sam had been getting up from the table, gun in hand. He rose an eyebrow, "Had another fight?"

"Don't worry about it. I calmed him down. Call me again if anything else goes wrong," and promptly left.

☆

_Of all the times, why now?_

_Of all the years of being able to hold myself back, why_ today?

Maybe the dent in his car was his fault. Driving his fist into the hood was not the greatest idea. He couldn't even feel it.

His phone rang.  _Hannah._

"Castiel? Are you done running the Winchester's errands?"

"Hello, Hannah. Yes, I'll be there shortly." His voice sounded disturbed, even to himself.

"Are you alright? What happened? _"_

"Nothing. My gas just ran out, that's all." Wow, lying to two of his friends, one practically his brother, in one day. _Model angel behaviour at it's finest, kids!_ A voice taunted in the back of his head, sounding close to Balthazar.

She agreed and hung up, prompting Castiel back to being alone with his guilty thoughts.

_Now, let's talk about that cliffhanger of a kiss. Replay it in slow motion for the folks at home?_

"Be quiet," he muttered to himself and rubbed his forehead.

_Touchy, touchy._

Castiel stood straight and slid into his car, starting up the engine and shoving a cassette tape into the music console. Then immediately taking it out and throwing it over his shoulder.

He did not need to think about the Highway to Hell right now.

☆

Later in the week, while Hannah was out on a lead about a group of angels who wanted to help their cause and Castiel still keeping that nagging voice at bay, Sam called yet again.

"Is he acting up again? I can be-"

"No, Cas," Sam hurried out, and Castiel could see him shaking his head and holding up a hand in a 'stop' motion, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm leaving the Bunker for a bit. There's a case I want to take, looks like it's getting pretty bad."

Castiel took a moment to think about what it meant. "You are leaving Dean  _alone_?"

"What?"

He realised he had spoken in Enochian and quickly repeated it in English. Had he been thinking that way this entire time?

"Oh, no! I mean, well... I was wondering if you could sort of babysit him. If you aren't busy with all the angel business right now. Dean's been pretty calm these past few days, doesn't really come out of his room for anything but a beer bottle."

"You mean," he grasped for the word he'd heard Dean use when describing Kevin, "'babysit' him?"

"Yeah. Sorta."

He checked the board they had going of all the cults forming around the country, the activity seemingly lowering as they got more and more angels to join them. Hannah would be gone a couple of days. He could call her, and besides, he was feeling a bit better. "Yes. I'll babysit him."

☆

"Again, thanks man. I'll be back two days tops."

"It is fine, Sam."

"Call me if anything goes on."

"I'm aware," he exhaled and waved him away, closing the garage as Sam took the Impala out. Castiel walked back into the living room, tapping his fingertips over the spines of the books on the shelves. He could read. It's not like he had the time to nowadays. And actually talking to Dean wasn't an option. He stopped at a familiar title, picking out the complete volume of  _Sherlock Holmes_.

The cover was faded, corners worn. Almost all the pages were dogeared. He brought the open book up to his face, smelling the old paper. In his short time as a human, this had been his favourite thing to do whenever he passed by a used library. Just roam, feeling the age.

He coughed into his shoulder and damned his dwindling grace.

_Maybe you should check on Dean._

He put the volume down on the table, biting his tongue to keep from screaming. 

No. No, I shouldn't check on Dean.

_Yeah. Go. For Sam._

Castiel weighed his options before giving a hiss of a curse and picking up his feet in a stiff march towards Dean's room. Popping in, making sure he was still there, then leaving. He didn't even need to make eye contact.

Was knocking necessary?

_Knock._

Knock.

He did.

"I'm coming in." He assured himself his blade was in his sleeve before stepping inside. Dean was twirling a knife twin to his own between his fingers (Sam definitely did not give him that, Castiel kept an eye on it), lounging on the bed like a cat, idly focusing his eyes on Castiel.

Bright green, also similiar to a cat's. Everything about him was feline for some reason. Castiel felt like a mouse.

"You been contracted by Sammy to look after me?"

"He asked. I agreed."

"You agreed," he repeated, the ends of his mouth going down as he nodded his head, "should've guessed. No argument, right? Even after those attacks that went on in Nevada the other day by the God Squad, that bar that blew up, you just come when you're called."

Castiel stiffened. How did he know about that?

"Sammy talks a lot to other hunters. I have good hearing."

"I'm here for Sam. He is also my family," he stated, happy to say something truthful. Dean nodded again before securing the knife handle in his fingers. Castiel felt the cold grip of the angel blade slipping into his hand, "You stole that from Sam's room didn't you?"

"Yeah."

Anticipating it, Castiel sidestepped as Dean lunged, bumping into the wall, but avoiding the knife aimed at his throat. It lodged into the door, slamming it shut. Which prompted him to think he should've just walked out.  _Dammit._

There was a scrape as the wood yielded the weapon. He kept his blade up, backing further into the room. Dean turned, all black and bad and brooding. Castiel was happy he had shielded himself from seeing his true form. 

"Dean," he began, "there's no reason for you to do this."

"Oh, yeah there is. I'll let you out when I get some damn answers."

"Answers?" He forced out, keeping himself looking neutral. Inside, there were alarm bells and that idiotic person shouting about 'aborting the mission' which he couldn't very well do. 

"Don't be stupid, Cas," it sounded like a snarl, spit out, "you know exactly what I mean."

The angel took a breathe as his back hit the night table, "It was- I don't know-" I'm usually able to control it. "I was going-"

"You were _going_ to kiss me. True or false?"

"True."

"Why?"

He straightened himself up, putting up his composure. He was a  _warrior,_ for Heaven's sake. "I do not _know_. You wanted an answer, and there you have it."

"A valid one, Einstein," the demon stopped, barely feet away. Castiel could've reached out and grabbed his jacket. He didn't, biding his time.

"I said I do not know, therefore I do not. Maybe it was an impulse. Maybe it's all the stress. I. Don't. _Know._ " He finally jumped forward, grabbing Dean by the collar with the hand holding his blade, using the other one to hold his arm behind his back. They were chest to chest. The tip of his dagger was digging into Dean's collar, not yet breaking skin. Just as intended.

Sort of.

The backfire of his plan was that now he was increasingly _closer_ to Dean. Close enough to hear his heart, loud as a freight train.

Dean blinked lazily, putting a hand around Castiel's wrist, "Don't do that, Castiel. We both know you won't."

It was true. But at least he didn't have the threat of being stabbed anymore.

"The world is recovering from a major blow, Dean. It seems childish that this is the primary thing on your mind right now. _"_

"Maybe you shouldn't have done it, then," he growled.

"Believe me, I had not intended to. Now I could let you go, if you give me the knife."

"Now, why would I want to do that? You might have me pinned, but I could also," he quickly shoved Castiel back into the wall, the angel being too startled to let go or react, "do this."

Dean's hair tickled his forehead.

_Maybe you shouldn't've listened to me, Cassie._

He masked his discomfort, not letting his eye contact waver. Clenched his jaw and hissed, "You are not going to accomplish anything like this."

"Who says?" A lower tone, rougher in his throat. Castiel hated that he could feel it vibrate down his chest. Hated, well, was a strong word. But it described whatever he felt. What he wanted to. "All you need to do is tell me."

"I already have. You're just too much of an ass to accept the answer." It was not unusual, the spark of anger he felt, especially while being so close to him. Always so stubborn, so infuriating.

"What if I told you your cursing is extremely hot?"

"Stop, Dean. Just stop."

"Why? Why should I?"

Castiel leaned his head back, sick of the stupidity of it all, "I'll admit I've been a little bit more than infatuated with you since I fell. I do not -- did not -- act on it until then. And even now, I can not understand why I did. After all that time you were missing, with Sam looking for you, with me on the lookout even though I was still trying to piece everything back together. I was planning on telling you. But when we found you a demon, I couldn't. You weren't you, you weren't the one I wanted to--"

Tell. He meant to say tell after that. He'd started but it was swallowed up in Dean's mouth, because that was happening now, Dean's mouth on his. Dean's teeth biting at his bottom lip. Castiel made a noise, more like a groan. His hold weakened considerably, the blade slipping back into his sleeve. The demon's free hand was gripping his hair, tilting his head up. 

_Stop._

_No._

_No._

_Wrong, right, wrong, rightwrongright._

_Not him._

_Almost._

His eyes fluttered shut, giving in, pushing into it. "Cas _..._ " He'd let go of the arm behind his back. Felt the movement before anything, anticipated it. No matter how hot everything was, how much you wanted it to seem real, it's easy to know a threat after millenia.

_You know what? You shouldn't listen to me anymore._

The angel blade drove up, missing it's target once again, since Castiel had kicked Dean around, turning them so he was the one against the wall. He jumped away, whipping the door open and closed on his way out. He pressed one foot to the bottom as he carved the sigil into the floor, a wide Devil's Trap right outside the room.

There was a bang.

 _Like,_ really _, shouldn't listen to me._

Either a potion was slipped into his system, or his mind was playing tricks on him, because all he wanted was for that to shut  _up._ He hurried away, leaving Dean to run out and get himself into  _that_ situation. His shouts echoed off the hallways, roars and curses, reared like a wild animal.

Castiel sat at the desk, head in his hands, nails digging into his scalp. Was he cursed? Maybe. Like it mattered.

When they returned him, Dean, he wouldn't care anymore. Probably blame something else on him.

But he would still stay. For Sam, for Charlie.

For Dean.

Because he was Castiel.

The pushover, the pet. The angel for hire.

☆

Gabriel frowned, popping the lollipop out of his mouth.

Being compare to Balthazar? Now  _that_ was cold.

**Author's Note:**

> yike
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://casanovastiel.tumblr.com/)


End file.
